Pitch Black
by rika08
Summary: He was an animal in human skin, cursed to spend his life in a slam. She was a demon spawned from hell, cursed into slavery. Their one commonality; the blue eyed devil Mr. Johns. When the lights go out, the real monsters come to play. Pitch Black retelling with an extra convict.
1. Chapter 1

_They say most of your brain shuts down in cryosleep. All but the primitive side...the animal side. No wonder I'm still awake. Transporting me with civilians. Sounded like forty, forty plus. Heard an Arab voice. Some hoodoo holy man. Probably on his way to New Mecca. But what route? What route? Smelled a woman. Sweat, boots, tool belt, leather. Prospector type. Free settlers. And they only take the back roads. Then there's her. Part of a double pay-load. Woman, humanoid. Changing scents. A shape shifter. Bit and chained, like me. Could be trouble. And here's my real problem: Mr. Johns, blue-eyed devil. Planning on taking me back to slam...only this time he picked a ghost lane. A long time between stops. A long time for something to go wrong._

Back route shipping lanes made history by finding trouble at some point. And with a transport carrying not one, but two high risk convicts in the manifest, it was surely bound to happen during the trip. It was a fact that Richard B. Riddick, had been anticipating. Cryosleep did not for him, but give him time to plan his next escape, his next kill, or simply gather his surroundings. But happen, it did.

Riddick dropped to the ground of his tube and eased himself out into the open. The blindfold over his eyes shifted just enough to catch sight of the trashed ship. Riddick stood from the ground, inspecting the remains. The passenger cabin of the _Hunter-Graztner_ had gone to shit. Cryotubes had fallen during the crash. Canisters, crates, wiring, and panels littered the floor, creating a hazardous maze. The smell of burning ozone, leather, grease, humans filled his senses. but one stood out above them. Sage, sea salt, sandalwood, and...death. Riddick paused in his recon. He moved down the line of cryotubes, his chains rattled with each step. The bit in his mouth hurt like a son of a bitch. Riddick stopped in front of the second lockdown cryotube. He lifted his head, catching a glimpse of what-or rather who- was inside.

_What the fuck?_ Riddick thought.

Inside was something he had not expected. A woman hung from the ceiling of the cryotube. A blindfold covered her eyes just as his did. Thousands of brown braids hung from her head and down her back. Her arms were bound in several restraints, all leading to the walls. Her restraints differed from his own. The woman's seemed to form to her body, never allowing any type of change to occur. Riddick had seen these restraints before during his numerous visits in slam. Shape-shifter restraints. The woman was a Mimic. A damn good looking one at that. His eyes drifted to her dark lips. It took a second for him to realize she was suffocating. Riddick moved to the tube controls. They'd been damaged in the crash. Her oxygen had been cut off.

Riddick turned from the tube. The Mimic was as good as dead. If she survived, she'd certainly wish she was dead once Johns got ahold of her again. She wasn't Riddick's problem, Johns was. Once the bastard woke up and found him gone, he'd come after Riddick. And Riddick wasn't about to let Johns drag his ass back to slam. He moved from the tube, following Johns' scent. Johns was lying unconscious in a pile of rubble. Riddick felt his hands twitch. He could kill Johns now and be done with him. Not more chains, bit, or pain in the fucking ass to fret over. The passengers would all die easy enough next, and he could get off faster.

A thump from behind caught Riddick's attention. He turned, once again looking at the cryotube. The Mimic's had pressed against the glass, feebly trying to break it. With her other hand, she pulled off her blindfold. She gasped for air. Riddick stared at her for another moment. Her hair grew lighter, scars began to appear. A white tattoo formed on her forehead as her eyes closed. Another few seconds and she was as good as dead. Johns was another story. The bastard would wake any second and he was wasting time with the Mimic.

_Fuck it. _He thought. Riddick walked back toward the tube and slammed his foot through the bottom of the screen. He turned back toward Johns and picked up the gun. Johns stirred. He'd have to die later. Riddick glance back at the Mimic, who was now breathing finally. Dumb bitch cost him his chance at Johns. But he'd get another one. It wasn't a big planet after all. Riddick moved through the ship and followed the ladder down into the bellows of the ship.

* * *

okay first chapter of a Pitch Black fanfic. first PB fanfic so please be nice. I know there have been tons of new characters in this story, but i'm gonna try my hand at it. you'll get to know this convict later on. Thought I'd at least start it off with Riddick's escape from his cell.


	2. Chapter 2

Johns groaned as he opened his eyes. his vision spun, either from disorientation or that fact that his transport had just crashed he wasn't sure. Nor did he really give a fuck. He sat up from the ground, moving his shoulder and legs, testing if anything was broken. It wouldn't matter if it was, one hit of his morphine and he wouldn't care. He kicked the panel out of his way, opening up what remained of the passenger cabin. Johns grabbed the column beside him and heaved himself up onto his feet. he scanned the area, quickly locating Riddick's tube. His heart dropped into his stomach and his blood turned to ice. Riddick's cryotube was empty.

"Shit." John muttered. He reached for his sidearm, locating on his holster. His hand touched the holster, but no gun. Johns looked at his holster. The bastard must've snatched it while Johns was down. But why hadn't he killed him? Johns moved further out into the cabin. He spotted several other passengers out of their tubes, searching through the wreckage. He turned his back to them, Riddick was his priority...and so was she. One convict out was bad enough, but two and they were up shit creak without a paddle.

Johns walked toward the lockdown cryotubes. Riddick's tube had been trashed from the base. Easy enough for Riddick to escape from. He turned his attention to the second tube, which still contained the convict. The door remained secured, save for the small hole in the bottom corner. What truly surprised him was the fact that the tube remained semi-functional. The preset environmental functions that kept her tube above average temperature were still holding. No wonder the girl hadn't tries harder to escape. The heat from her tube had kept her too weak o fully escape from her tube.

Johns walked up to the tube and stared at the girl. She hung near the face of the tube, breathing heavily. Inside the girl tilt her head, hearing his voice. Johns noticed her restraints had held during the crash, preventing any escape. He chuckled darkly. "Almost made it Brisais."

Turning from her tube, Johns surveyed the area. Brisais wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. Not even the passengers would open her tube. he made his way through the debris, searching for any signs of Riddick. He moved further and further away from the voices of the survivors, until he found a ladder diving down into the cabin. Johns grabbed the edge and dropped below.

The moment his feet touched the floor, Johns clicked on his small flashlight. He moved through the maze of a cabin, completely separated from the survivors. Bad for him, good for Riddick. Johns moved through the cabin, watching for any sign of Riddick. As he passed by a series of empty cryotubes, a black shape caught Johns' eye. He turned and looked at the ground, where his pistol lay. Within second the thick ankle chains that cuffed Riddick were wrapped tightly around Johns neck. Johns grabbed the chains and tried to pulled them from his throat, but Riddick had a tight hold of the cops neck. Johns' hand fumbled along his waist. He caught hold of his baton and flicked it open. The lightweight rod extended to its full length. Swinging blinding, Johns swung at Riddick, striking wherever he could. he felt the rod collided with Riddick's mass, but it did nothing to release the convicts hold over his throat. The cabin grew dimmer around Johns. He had to do something now or he was a dead man. With his hold on the chains, Johns pulled forward. Whatever Riddick held onto held firm but johns was not about to give up. He managed a step from his previous place, then another. Then it happened. whatever Riddick held, pipes or panels, gave way. Johns lurched forward while Riddick fell from above. Johns heard Riddick collide onto a pile of crates before falling to the ground.

Finally free of Riddick's death grip, Johns turned toward Riddick. The convict lay on the ground, still bound and seemingly unconscious. History told him that Riddick could easily be playing him. He took a single step toward Riddick and swung the baton at Riddick's head, hopefully putting the animal out for a time.

Johns took a deep breath. "Somebodies gonna get hurt one of these days. It ain't gonna be me."

He took hold of Riddick's legs and dragged him toward a nearby support beam. The beam, like the entire ship, was broken. The welded connection had been broken during the crash, leaving a slight gap between the beam halves. Johns dragged Riddick to the beam and secured the convicts arms behind the beam. There was no chance he'd get out this time. Johns ran the back of his hand over his mouth, exhaling deeply. The fight must've taken more out of him than he thought. Satisfied Riddick wasn't going to be a bother, Johns turned around and headed back toward the upper cabin, where his second payload waited for a temporary release.

Johns climbed the ladder back up into the upper cabin. The survivors were crowded together, working at one of cryotubes that hadn't been opened. Johns watched as the worker woman cut through the frame of the tube. The moment the torch cut through the final rivet, the door popped open, sending a twelve year old boy to the floor. He was dressed in baggy clothes and a cap covering his hair. He looked around slowly.

"So, I guess something went wrong?" he said.

A dark skinned man wearing a Muslim turban stepped around the tube and helped the kid to his feet. "Are you alright child?"

The kid nodded. "Yeah I'm fine."

"Hey." Johns called. The group turned toward him, startled by his sudden appearance. Johns ignored their looks and continued. "Mind giving me a hand with another cryotube?

The woman holding the torch nodded. "On my way." She heaved the torch and canister over her back and walked toward Johns. Johns had to admired a woman who knew how to work. Her body was curved and toned from it. Dark curls hung down her back, but were pulled out of her eyes to work. As she drew near, Johns moved down the row and tubes toward Brisais.

"I'm Shazza." the woman said.

"Johns." Johns replied.

They came to a stop near the next cryotube.

Shazza stared at the tube. Her stomach twisted within her. "Who is that?"

Johns stared at the tube. He as accustomed to the Mimic's shifting, but not one else was. She hung where he'd left her, but her appearance had changed since he'd last seen her. Her braids had taken a light brown shade. Her skin was a light cream color, flawless of the scars she hid. Her lips were thin and a light shade of pink. To an outsider, she looked as harmless as the kid back there. Luckily, Johns knew better.

"Someone you wouldn't want to meet on a dark night." Johns answered. He reached into his pocket and retrieved a small electrical device. "Don't worry bout her, though. That heat in her tube, her chains, and that restraint collar should keep her occupied."

Shazza gave Johns a brief glance. She sighed and moved to the cryotube and began cutting away.

Inside the tube, Brisais stirred. She opened her eyes and looked up. Her braids parted along both sides of her face. Her light brown orbs quickly located Johns on the other side of the door. Johns watched her closely, thumb hovering the charge button on the remote. His eyes shifted between Shazza and Brisais, gauging the danger the survivor was in. It was minimal. Riddick was a wild card, but the Mimic wasn't. Heat left them dangerously weak. She wouldn't be a problem to anyone.

The torch cut through the frame, releasing the door. Johns stepped to the side as the door collapsed onto the floor. He pressed the charge button and watched as the Mimic cringed as the electricity shot through the restraining collar around her neck. The collar was typically used for animal, but it worked wonders for shape shifters and locked with the controls command. Johns let up on the switch. Brisais went slack in her tube. All her weight went to her restraints, just how Johns preferred. He reached up sand unlocked her restraints from the roof of the tube. Johns heaved the Mimic over his shoulder and walked toward the ladder without another word to Shazza.

Johns heedlessly dropped the Mimic down the ladder. He smirked wickedly went he heard her groan from the collision. Whether she lived or not didn't matter according to her bounty. If she became too much trouble he'd just 'X' her out. She was expendable in the payload, so any injuries weren't his problem. Johns slid down the ladder and quickly heaved her body over his shoulder once more. He walked through the maze of chaos toward the ripped opening in the hull.

The sun immediately beat down against him. Johns exhaled heavily, his lungs worked twice as hard as he was used to. He scoured the area, finding nothing but desert. He smirked to himself, there couldn't have been a better planet to crash on with a Mimic. John walked alongside the ship and dropped his cargo to the ground. He grabbed her hands and heaved them over her head. Johns tipped up her chin, forcing her to look up at him. "Enjoy the sunshine Sais." He kissed her viciously before slamming her head against the hull of the ship. Johns re-entered the ship and headed up the ladder, unaware of Riddick's covered gaze watching him.

* * *

okay...so what did you think of this chapter. kinda long and kinda explained a little of the new character

oh, in case you were wondering about the name pronunciation

Brisais (br-i-say-us) hope that made sense


	3. Chapter 3

Carolyn Fry stepped out onto the top of the shuttle. She inhale the warm, dry air. Ironic really, compared to how cold she felt. She looked down at her hands, half expecting to see them covered in Owens blood. She shook her head and climbed up, meeting the woman, Shazza at the top.

"There was talk of a scouting party, but then we saw this." she turned, pointing to the large crash site. For miles behind the ship, the earth was ripped open from the ships course. The strip was littered with debris and cryotubes. There was no need for a search party, there would be no survivors from a crash like that.

"What the bloody hell happened?" demanded a dark skinned man. Shazza's husband by the way she was holding him. Zeke, she believed, recognizing the woman's voice earlier calling for him.

"Could've been a meteor storm. Might have been a rogue comet." Fry explained. "I don't know."

"Well," Shazza said. "I for one, am thoroughly grateful. Beast wasn't made to land like this, but, I think you did well. Actually, the only reason we're alive is because of her."

"Yes, I suppose you're right." Paris said. "Thanks very much."

"Yeah, thanks for saving our dicks." Jack said.

"No really, thank you." Paris insisted.

Shazza patted Fry on the back. "Well done."

In that instant, Fry despised herself more than she could ever despise a human being. They truly believed she had saved them during the crash. She wanted to scream at them, tell them how fucking terrified she'd been during that crash, how she tried to flush them out during the crash. How it had been OWENS that had saved them from certain death. Now Owens stood in their places, while Fry lived with her decision.

Fry shook her head. "Alright, let's get to work." she turned to Zeke and Shazza. "You think you can rig some breathing equipment with the liquid O2 canisters from the pressure suits?"

Zeke nodded. "Shouldn't be a problem."

"Okay, get to work on that." Fry ordered as if she were the captain. "The rest of you, see what you salvage from the crash. We need food and water. Water is top priority."

At her order, the survivors broke apart in search. Zeke and Shazza ripped apart the pressure suits and began rigging breathing canisters. Jack helped Shazza test out the rigs. Fry found herself standing in the lower half of the passenger cabin, glancing between Riddick and the woman restrained outside. By protocol, they weren't ever supposed to be released. None of the passengers were supposed to come in contact with them. Yet here they were, free-to an extent- and conscious.

"He just escaped from a maximum prison." Johns said, joining her.

Fry turned to look at the woman. "And her?"

Johns followed her eyes toward the outside hull. "She's been on the run for a few years."

"So, do we just keep them locked up?" Fry asked. She wasn't one for letting convicts go, but if they couldn't get off the planet, what point did the restraints serve.

"Well, that would be my choice." Johns said. "You don't these two mixing with polite society."

Fry lowered her voice. "Are they really that dangerous?"

Johns resisted every urge to laugh at the stupidity of her question. "Dangerous. They're on their own level of dangerous. But only around humans." He turned toward the hull opening and stepped out into the sun. "Paris said he might have something worth it in his container. Probably should go check it out."

Fry turned and followed him out into the sun. She cast one final glance toward the hull. Her eyes landed on the restrained woman. Even as she watched her for a few seconds, Fry could've sworn the woman's hair was changing right before her eyes. The shade of brown was growing lighter, and now because of the sunlight. Or was the lack of water and strong heat getting to Fry already?

"You ain't goin' crazy." Johns said, catching her backward glance. "She's a Mimic. Heat wears 'em out quickly. too much heat, not enough energy to focus on their shift. 'Nother hour and I'm guessing you'll see the monster behind that mask."

Fry's eyes grew large. Her anxiety doubled now. In her years of traveling, Fry hadn't met a Mimic, not that she could tell one from a normal person, but she knew the stories that surrounded them. It's like looking at yourself in a mirror, then you die. Fry shook her head. She pushed forward toward the cargo hold.

The cargo hold had broken off during the crash. It had dug itself into the earth nearly two hundred yards from the navigation controls. The earth between the two sections was littered with debris fro the crash. The interior of the cabin was mush like the outside. Everyone had been tossed about during the crash. Panels, beams, and wires hung loose from where they'd broken off. Fry and Johns climbed into the container and found Paris at the base of a thousand year old sarcophagi.

"The whole bloody containers upside down." Paris muttered. "It's all topsy-turvy." He cracked open the sarcophagi. the entire tomb was filled with glass bottles. "Well, goodness it's not a total loss?"

Fry couldn't believe their luck. "Booze? This is what you have to drink?"

Johns didn't seem to mind. He picked up a bottle an took a greedy drink of the bitter liquid.

Paris, however, certainly seemed to mind. "I'm going to nee a receipt for that. For all of these. This is my personal stuff."

Fry rolled her eyes. "I'll get right on that." She turned toward the upper hall where Imam stood. "I don't supposed this will help you any?"

"Unfortunately, it is not permitted." Imam explained. "Especially while on hajj."

"You do know there's no water." Johns spoke up, looking to the holy man.

"All deserts have water. "Imam reminded. "It only waits to be found."

"I hope you're right." Johns muttered.

Paris closed the lid. "All the more for me then."

* * *

Riddick waited until Johns and Fry's voice was well enough away before he made his escape. For the past hours, he'd been working on a way to escape. The how he escaped was simple enough, reach the cutting torch that someone had carelessly left seven feet from him. Once the chains were cut, he was home free. Getting to chains cut was the harder part. It also happened to be the more painful part. But, not being one to avoid escape because of a little pain, Riddick opted for his plan. He bit down on the bit in his mouth and lifted his arms toward the gap in the beam. His muscles tightened as he reached higher. He clenched the bit and popped his shoulders out of the socket one by one. Riddick groaned as he kept pulling his arms toward the gap. He pulled his arms higher and popped his arms into place. Finally the chain slipped through the beam. Riddick dropped to his knees and caught hold of the cutting torch.

Riddick pulled the blindfold from his face, finally getting a good look around. He turned on the torch and scrapped it over the metal surface, igniting the gas. He dialed the torched down and focused the flame on the cuffs. The cut took less than twenty seconds before his hands were free. He turned the torch on his ankle chains and quickly disposed of them. Riddick pulled the bit from his mouth and searched the cabin until he located his goggles. He slipped them on over his eyes and stepped out into the bright sun.

The heat immediately beat down on his exposed skin. The rest of the heat beat down, attracted to his dark colors in its path. Riddick took in the surroundings. Nothing but desert for miles. He could make out a ridge a ways from the crash site, with something barely resembling shelter. It may be the place to lose Johns when the bastard came for him.

A metallic scrape caught Riddick's attention. Riddick turned toward the sound. His covered eyes instantly found the chained Mimic. Her back was aimed toward him, a grave mistake in a fight, he noted. She weakly pulled at her restraints, trying too break them free. Riddick tilt his head to the side and watched her act with great curiosity. She was already exhausted. The heat and lack of water was already severely effecting her mobility and actions, but she still tried to free herself. He could hear her groaning as she pulled at her restraints. He admired her survival instincts, but there was no way she could escape in her current state. Neither could he, really. Without any water, he was as good as dead by the days end. But her, she'd be dead in an hour if she kept up like that.

His presence must have lingered too long. The next thing Riddick realized, he was staring into the violet eyes of the chained Mimic. Sweat rolled down her tan skin, trailing down the slowly appearing facial tattoo. Strands of fading brown stuck to her face. Riddick had seen the faces of many in his days, but hers was different. She showed no fear toward him. She didn't cower away from him, or beg him not to kill her. She simply held his gaze, as if she was waiting for him to end her. The Mimic seemed to realize he wasn't going to kill her. She looked, defeated, and lowered her head. An unknown source of anger sparked something inside of him. Without a second thought, Riddick marched toward her. He took hold of the restraints latch and freed her from the bean above her head. He did the same for her ankle chains. the Mimic looked at him, her eyes filled with confusion. Riddick said nothing to her. He simply turned his back to her an marched off into the desert. He hurled his mouth bit toward sunset, heading as far from the sun as he could. What became of her now was no longer his concern, nor was her release. He'd done his bit and now he had his own skin to look after.

* * *

hoo that's 3 chapters. hope I can keep up with this fanfic.

hope Riddick's escape was interesting.


	4. Chapter 4

Johns stepped out of the cargo hold. The sun beat down on him, threatening to ignite a searing headache through his skull. The lack of water, heat, and alcohol would certainly start effecting him soon. And once withdrawals hit, he'd be up shit creek. Until then, it was business as usual. And he'd spent enough time away from his payloads, it was about time to check on them. Johns walked along the crash trail toward the shuttle. His boots kicked up the dirt, filling his heavy breaths.

With his weapons in check Johns suddenly felt a wave of uneasiness sweep over him. Something wasn't right. He couldn't out his finger on what, though. All the survivors were accounted for and Riddick and Brisais were locked up for the time being. What could possibly be wrong now? Still, unsettled by the strange feeling, Johns picked up his pace toward the ship. As he drew near, his palms grew clammy. New beads of sweat rolled down his forehead as he approached Brisais' empty space. Johns all but threw himself into the ship, already knowing what sight would greet him. To his deepest fears, Riddick had escaped as well. Not one, but both convicts were free and loose somewhere on the planet. Johns quickly stepped outside. He drew his scope from his vest and peered around the area.

A glint of sunlight near sunset caught his attention. He lowered his scope and raced toward the glint. Fuming with anger toward himself and picked up the metal bit. Riddick's mouthpiece. Johns threw it back to the earth and took out the restraint control. He knew it wouldn't do nay good, but with the temperature as hot as it was, it was a good chance that Brisais might still be in the vicinity. He pressed the charge trigger and waited. He fumed when he didn't hear the satisfying screams of Brisais in pain.

"Motherfucker." Johns snapped. Like they needed another way to die.

He withdrew his pistol and began backtracking toward the cargo shuttle. Riddick had a thing with traps. And the only way to avoid them was to backtrack each step the way you came. Brisais was another story. She wasn't one for traps, she was more for sneaking up on them before killing them. After she took up your identity. If he found himself staring into a mirror, Johns knew he'd be a dead man.

Johns stormed into the cargo hold. "Paris, you got any kind of weapons, now's the time to get 'em."

The tone in his voice caught Fry's attention. She turned toward him, frowning "What happened?"

"Our guests have checked out." Johns answered shortly.

The entire cabin grew silent.

"Both of them?" Fry asked.

Johns nodded. "Yeah."

"Shit." Fry muttered. "Paris, you got any weapons in your hold?"

Paris blinked, momentarily surprised. "Um...yes. yes I do."

"Break 'em out." Johns ordered. "Everybody needs to arm themselves."

Paris nodded and set about fetching his gear. Johns took to his own job of breaking out his own gear. Zeke and Shazza searched through their gear, coming up with a pick axe and digging tools. Imam unsheathed a ceremonial dagger from his waist. Johns was impressed by the Muslims actions, he hadn't even thought the man would be one to arm himself. Paris came up with an assortment of weaponry...if it could be called that.

"What are these?" he asked.

"Marath crow-bill war-picks from Northern India." Paris explained as if it was obvious. "Very rare."

Zeke came up and lifted a small stick. "And this?"

"That's a blow-dart hunting stick from Papua New Guinea. And that's very, very rare since the tribe is now extinct." Paris continued.

Zeke snorted and lowered the blow dart. "Cause they couldn't hunt shit with theses things, be my guess."

Paris lowered the weapons and sighed. "Looks, what's the points? If they're gone, they're gone. Why should they bother us?"

"Maybe to take what you've got. Usually how Riddick works." Johns offered. He loaded several blue shells into his shot gun. "Maybe to work your nerve. Brisais' handiwork right there." He pulled on his tactical vest and loaded several shells into the pockets. "Or maybe he'll just come back and skull-fuck you in your sleep."

Shazza blanched. "Sounds like charmer."

Paris seemed absolutely terrified by the mere thought of Johns suggestion.

Behind him, Jack picked up a hunting boomerang and headed out with the others.

"Looks, I ain't gonna lie, having both of them out there isn't good. But if you want to be worried about one of them, be worried about Riddick." Johns explained. "Brisais is a Mimic, meaning she's extremely heat sensitive. If she's out there on her own without water, she's as good as dead in an hour. She ain't gonna be much trouble. Make sure everyone stays together."

Fry looked around the crash site. The threat of Riddick was still coursing through her mind, but they had more pressing matters. "Imam, if we're looking for water, we should go before nightfall, while it's cooler."

Paris came running out. "Excuse me, but I think you should see this."

Everyone followed Paris toward the back of the crash site. They were met with a startling sight. As the two suns set behind them, a third was rising just in front of them. This blue orb started rising over the horizon, casting a blue glow across the sand.

Jack turned toward Fry. "Three suns?"

"Bloody hell." Shazza gasped.

"So much for you nightfall." Zeke stated.

"So much for my cocktail hour." Paris muttered to himself.

Imam and his boys looked pleased. "We take this as a good sign. A path and direction from Allah. Blue sun, blue water."

"Ever wondered why I'm an atheist?" Zeke muttered. He walked off, preparing for work.

"Bit of a bad sign." Johns said. "That's Riddick's direction."

Fry frowned. "I thought you said you found his restraints over there. Toward sunset."

Johns nodded. "Right. Which means he went toward sunrise." Which meant he had a chance of tracking down the killer. Johns reached into his holster and retrieved his pistol. "Zeke, fully loaded clip, safety's on. One shot if you spot him."

Zeke apprehensively took the gun from Johns. He didn't like the idea of the cop leaving the group. "Don't tell me you're going off too."

Johns nodded.

"But what happens if Mr. Riddick spots up first?" Paris asked.

Johns snorted. "They'll be no shots."

* * *

With his newfound freedom, Riddick took the east, or the direction east seem to be. With three suns, east was some fucking direction. He headed out toward the ridge, a good three miles from the crash site. Beyond the ridge, there seemed to be trees. Trees meant shade and water. The sun beat down on his exposed flesh, burning the energy from him. Riddick kept moving toward the ridge, not wasting his chance. He reached the top of the ridge and stopped in his tracks. What he had assumed to be trees, were bones. Monstrous bones of great creatures that had long since died away. The canyon was littered with the massive skeletons, all gathered around to die.

Riddick started down the canyon, sliding down the wall with ease. The moment his feet hit the bottom of the canyon, Riddick dove into the maze of skeletons. He weaved through the massive bones. He ran his hand over the rib, running across the grooves instead of smooth bone. Riddick frowned and examined the bone closer. He spotted jagged grooves dug into the bones, as if something ribbed it apart. He lowered his eyes to the ground. He dug through the dirt, coming up with chips of bones plucked from the carcasses. Riddick found a shiv sized bone and gripped it tightly. Amidst the dust and dirt, he caught the scent of sandalwood and sage. He didn't turned toward the scent to know she was following him. She wasn't his problem and he certainly wasn't going to help her out again. but if she cost him his freedom, he was certainly going to end her life. He turned from the rib and moved through the skeletons, hunkering down above the ground, on top of a shoulder blade.

Riddick heard their approach before he saw them. The damn pilgrim children certainly didn't know how to keep silent, especially when there was a killer on the loose. Riddick watched from his place as the children and their leader reached the top of the ridge. Riddick snorted as he spotted Johns within the group.

* * *

There were no words to describe the disappointment surging through Fry. The ridge had been their best bet of water. They had not expected a graveyard of massive creatures. The furthest bones of the creatures towered a good ways over the ridge. The ribs towered fifty feet below them. Still, they were massive skeletons. A chilling thought crossed Fry's mind. If these thing were so massive, what could have killed them by these great numbers?

"A communal graveyard, perhaps." Imam said. "Like the elephants of earth."

It was more pleasant thought compared to Fry's suspicions. But the sight in front of her wasn't comforting. "Is this whole planet dead?"

"Let's keep moving." Johns said. He took a hesitant step down the ridge. Loose rocks kicked up under his feet as he slid down the ridge. Johns struggled to keep his balance during the slide. the last thing he needed was to injure himself sliding down a hill.

The others followed Johns down the hill. The boys made the venture down a little game, racing each other down without a care. Fry and Imam came down last, closing the gap of their group. Johns moved through the maze of bones, scouting for any sign of his convicts. Ali found a small, flat bone and dragged it alongside the ribcage of one of the creatures. Riddick moved silently through the bones, following Fry through the gaps

Fry wandered through the canyon and took a puff form her breathing canister, only to receive nothing. She tried the trigger again, still nothing. Fry frowned and checked the gauge. She gave the o2 canister an extra shake, but still nothing. With a sigh, Fry leaned against the ribcage and sank to the ground.

Johns came around the side, carrying a bottle of scotch swiped from Paris' stash. "Drink?" She winced as the strong liquid hit her throat.

Fry reached out and took the bottle. "Probably shouldn't do this. Dehydrates you more."

Johns smirked. "Probably right."

Riddick eased his way toward Fry, bone shiv at the ready. He could take her out first, then Johns. He raised the shiv toward the base of her neck, fast kill, she'd never see it coming.

"You could've stayed with the ship." Johns said. "Probably should have. If we don't find water you know what happens."

Fry shook her head and capped the bottle. "I wanted to get away."

"Never seen a captain so ready to leave her ship." Johns stated.

_That's it Johns. Keep distracting her. _Riddick thought. _Make my job easier._

Fry rose from the ground. Riddick's shiv hovered just inches from her neck. It was a miracle Johns hadn't even noticed him at all. "I think we should keep moving."

"What'd Owens mean?" Johns asked. "By not touching the handle?"

Both Fry and Riddick stopped. Riddick watched Fry's stance shift completely. The bastard had her in his grasp now. Riddick shook his head. Fry was gonna spill her guts to him.

"This is between you and me, Carolyn." Johns swore.

Don't fall for it.

Riddick thought to himself.

"I'm not your captain." Fry answered. "During the crash, when things were at their worst, Owens was at his best. He's the one who stopped the docking pilot from dumping the main cabin. Passengers."

"And the docking pilot being?" Johns asked.

Fry said nothing.

It didn't take a genius to know who was the docking pilot. Riddick couldn't help but be impressed by her confession, and her guts to do what she needed to do to survive. _No wonder I like her._

Johns snorted. "Guess I'm a little more glad to be here than I thought." He slipped his hat on over her head and kept going.

Riddick quiet cut a small lock form Fry's hair. _All I need, for now._ He watched the group pass through the canyon, out of sight. He looked at the strands of hair in his hands. The woman certainly had guts. _How interesting_.

Shifting rocks and bones caught Riddick's attention. He spun around fast, shiv at the ready. As he moved, he caught the scent of the Mimic again. He turned toward the sound, only to find nothing around him. The ground continued to shift around him. Riddick slowly turned, following the scent, but still saw nothing. Just as quickly as the scent and sound occurred, it stopped. He looked back down at the hair and released it. "How interesting."

* * *

Of all the planets to crash land, it was to be one with three suns. Not one or two, but three suns. Constant searing heat radiating upon the earth, threatening to kill the survivors that much quicker. Great risk of never finding water. A greater risk of being caught. Brisais exhaled heavily. Her lungs worked twice as hard just to allow her to catch her breath since she woke in her tube, but now that she was running, trying to breathe seemed to have become the impossible. She tugged at the hood attached to her vest, pulling it further down her face. She wasn't wearing much, hardly ever needed to, but what she did wear did both help and hinder her survival on the planet. Her shirt and vest left much of her torso exposed to the sun, her vest and pants were both trimmed in black and dark red, focusing the heat on her body further.

The sand burned beneath her feet as she pressed on. She'd caught sight of Riddick moving toward the ridge after releasing her. Riddick, that was another problem. Everything she knew about the man suggested he would have killed her rather than help her. But he'd done the opposite not once, but twice. He'd broken the opening in her tube that saved her from suffocating **and** he'd freed her from her restraints. Brisais shook her head. Logically, if both of them were on the loose, Johns would have to divvy up his focus. And in truth, he'd go after Riddick. His bounty was worth more than hers, not that she cared. But it told her that his 'selfless' actions toward her weren't really selfless, which suited her just fine.

Brisais heaved another sigh as she reached the top of the ridge, barely catching a glimpse of Riddick moving into one of hundreds of skeletal remains. Trying not to imagine what had killed the creatures, Brisais started down the ridge. In the distance, she could hear the pilgrim children praying and calling out to their god. She cursed internally as she hit the bottom of the ridge, if they were already moving, what were the odds that Johns was with them? Pushing herself up from the earth Brisais race into the shelter of the skeletons.

The moment her body dipped into the shadows, a rush of coolness washed over Brisais. She closed her eyes, relishing in the coolness of the shade. To most, shade was just convenient, but to her people it was a saving grace. And water was worth more than any bounty. Brisais focused hard and slowly shifted her face, concealing her white tribal tattoo. She flattened her nose and thinned her lips. Next she shifted her ears. She curved their tips and decreased their size. The white braids darkened to a dreamy brown color. Brisais exhaled slowly as her shift ended. It was all she could manage at the moment. Another few minutes, and she could risk camouflaging into her surroundings. In her current state, Johns could easily overtake her. But it was better to be caught in a familiar shift, than in her real form.

The sounds of the pilgrims broke her line of thought. Brisais drew along the shadowed bones and watched through and opening. The three boys made their way down the mountain, followed closely by the ships captain, their mentor, and Johns. Brisais growled darkly and moved deeper into the graveyard. She was not going to waste her newfound freedom by allowing Johns to catch her so easily. She made her way through the remains, moving silently. She ducked to the ground as the group passed by and closed her eyes. Slowly, her body began blending in with her surroundings.

Brisais opened her eyes and rose slowly. She moved through the skeleton without a second glance. She slipped inside another skeleton. Her foot caught on a bone, causing a sudden shift in her footing. Motion behind her caused her to turn around. Riddick stood several feet from her, holding a bone shiv. Brisais stood her ground for a moment before she realized that Riddick couldn't see her. She moved slowly from her spot, easing passed him. All the while, Riddick followed her steps, but never moved toward her. Brisais eased herself further down the remains until she found an opening leading up. She quickly climbed up the reminds. AS she climbed, she caught Riddick's last words. "How interesting."

* * *

kind of a long chapter...sorry bout that. just fyi, gonna ship the shuttle discovery scene. we all know it happens. please review to let me know you're reading this


	5. Chapter 5

As the crash site, Paris had taken watch guard on top of the crash ship. He leaned further back into his chair as Zeke dragged out the body sled toward the open gravesite. Shazza was somewhere in the shuttle, worker as well. And Jack, well the little monster was around here somewhere. So long as he stayed away from Paris, the man couldn't care less about the child. He mused to himself while the others worked, enjoying their work while he lounged about safe. Paris closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. Settled beneath an umbrella, Paris fanned himself with a wooden fan, trying to escape the heat.

A low scraping sound flittered across the hot air, making Paris pause his fanning. He sat still for a moment, listening further. All was quiet.

"Damn that child." He muttered. Paris rose from his chair and grabbed his war axe. He climbed down the shuttle and ran across the site to the cargo shuttle. His lungs burned from the effort, but Paris paid it no mind, That bloody child was going to get it form him.

Paris climbed the opening and peered inside. He found Shazza and Jack standing by one of the holds, cutting it open. "Tell me that was you just now."

"Um...it was me?" Jack answered.

"I know you love your twisted mind games, child, but enough is enough." Paris blabbered.

Shazza frowned. "What are you going on about? he's been right here helping me."

"Back at the ship." Paris stated. "That noise. You trying to tell me that was someone...else"

Another bang echoed through the hull, silencing the conversation. A shadow flittered across the floor as something passed by the fractures in the hull. Shazza slowly turned off the torch. Jack moved toward the closest fracture sand peered through. He caught sight of a pair of legs, men's legs, moving toward the shuttle. He turned to the others, mouthing with alarm _'Riddick'._

Shazza all but ripped the war axe form Paris' hands. She rushed toward the hull hatch, beating the convict. She pressed ehr body against the wall, gripping the axe tightly in her hands. Jack and Paris moved along the wall opposite her, watching for Riddick. Footsteps drew nearer to the hatch, heavy footsteps. Shazza felt her heart hammer in far inside her chest. She took a deep breath and swung.

"No!" Jack cried.

Jack's cry was all it took to divert Shazza's blade before it rammed into another man's chest. He stood, have daze in front of the hatch. His face was covered in sweat and blood, his clothes were half torn from his body.

"Oh thank god." he muttered. "I though I was the only one who got out of the crash ali-"

The man's sentence died away as the shots of Johns pistol rang out. Blood splattered over Shazza's face and body. The man never even realize what had happened to him. He collapsed on the ground by Shazza's feet. Behind him stood Zeke, holding Johns pistol.

"It was just somebody else." Jack muttered. He looked up toward Zeke. "It was just somebody else from the crash!"

Zeke rushed to the hatch. "Crikey, I thought it was him. I thought it was Riddick!"

* * *

From the comfort of Paris' perch on the crash shuttle, Riddick watched the whole even unfold. He picked up the bottle of alcohol and savor the bitter liquid as it coursed down his dry throat. To be fair, that sound Paris heard that sent him running, that **had** actually been Riddick. The poor bastard that took Zeke's aim, that was just pure luck. For Riddick anyways. It would have been funny if the survivors weren't trying to kill him. Riddick caped the bottle and rose from the chair. As comfortable as it was, he couldn't stay too long. Paris might return and that was not something Riddick was looking forward to. The guy was a damn coward, cowering behind Shazza while she went for the kill. Waste of a brain that one. Besides, there was something Riddick needed off them.

* * *

Zeke wrapped the man's body in a tarp and dragged him onto the makeshift sled he'd been using to haul the dead. he pulled the ropes of the sled, dragging it along the graveled earth. Zeke struggled to pull the sled across the earth. Maybe it was the man's weight that exhausted him further. Maybe he was simply too exhausted to pull another body. Maybe it was guilt of killing the wrong. Zeke shook his head. he couldn't afford to think that now. He'd acted out to protect the survivors; to protect Shazza.

The grave sight was good couple hundred yards from the crash ships, in the center of the pinnacle field. Zeke had constructed a tarp to hang over the sight. It protected him for the sun's rays, but also kept him out of sight of the others. Zeke lowered the straps of the sled to the ground and pulled open the tarp. Zeke frowned as he looked at the hole. A second, deeper hole had appeared.

"The bloody hell is going on?" Zeke muttered. He hopped into the hole for a better look.

The tunnel went on far into darkness. Zeke reached for his hand light and turned it on. He cleared away the opening enough for him to fit through. Slowly, light shinning the way, Zeke eased him way into the tunnel. He crawled a few feet, wonder just how far this tunnel went, and who the bloody hell dug it.

He never knew what hit him.

In a flurry of pain and shrieks, Zeke fumbled for the pistol Johns had given him. Slices and stabs came at him from every angle of the tunnel, ripping at his flesh. Zeke cried out, firing every way in the tunnel he could imagine, but the pain didn't stop. A slash took off his arm, still firing the rounds off. Another stabbed into his chest and dragged him into the bloody darkness, screaming.

* * *

Riddick had seen most of what had taken place. After leaving the crash ship and moving into the pinnacle field, he'd taken up a place behind one of the pinnacles closest to the grave. He watched from afar as Zeke dragged the poor dead bastard on the sled. Riddick's eyes never left Zeke's breathing rig, up until Zeke dropped into the grave. Riddick moved from his place toward the graves edge, gripping the shiv tightly. Quick and quiet. He'd be gone before anyone noticed something happened. Riddick eased onto his knees and the edge of the grave, just in time to see Zeke crawl into the tunnel.

That was when the game changed.

Call it survival instincts, or animal instincts. Whatever it was, it hit Riddick like a thousand pound force inside his brain. A second after it began, Riddick watched Zeke's legs plunge into the tunnel. Several rounds of the pistol sounded off, accompanied by Zeke's horrified screams. Riddick stood his ground, listening as strange clicking sound accompanied every slash at Zeke's flesh. He watched an explosion of blood burst from the tunnel, painting the entrance and ground, and then the shooting stopped. Riddick knelt beside the grave, listing to the dying sounds within the cave. Whatever was in there had been quick and painful. Whatever it was, it was something that was worse than even himself.

"ZEKE!"

_Shit! _In all the commotion of the attack, Riddick hadn't heard Shazza's approach. He stared up at her, meeting her terrified gaze. Riddick slowly rose from the ground and turned. He was murderer, but he was not about to go down for a murder he didn't do. Particularly when whatever killed Zeke, could easily kill him too.

* * *

okay, I know how it jumps a bit in this one, but there were two pov's to show for this. Besides, you know you wanted to get both sides of Zeke's slaughter. I'll get the next chapter up soon. that one will have a bit more Brisais in it, in case you were curious.


	6. Chapter 6

The planet had fallen silent one the group and Riddick passed on, leaving Brisais alone within the boneyard. She kept to the shadows, gathering her strength. Without another soul for miles, there was no need to camouflage herself and waste energy that may be needed later. Brisais lay nestled in the shade of the bones, relishing in a moment of rest. Cryo did nothing but leave her immobile. Had the heating adaption in her tube malfunction, she could had escaped from her pod and evacuated the ship. Accelerated healing; another genetic blessing of her race. Poisons, medications, sedatives; all inactive within thirty seconds upon injection. It was ironic really, her people had such capabilities within them, yet their one downfall came from an undeniable resource. Intense heat left their bodies weak and exposed to danger.

It was the one reason that Johns had managed to capture her after years on the run. The damn bastard had cornered her on an outpost was incredible heat. And once he got that restraint collar around her neck, Brisais was done for. One shock and she was immobile. That was all it took to take her out. She pulled at the collar. It stretched a few inches, but gave no sign of releasing her from its grasp. Johns had the switch.

The shots cut through the silence like the sun cutting through the darkness. The moment it sounded, Brisais was on her feet and alert. Her ears listened for any signs of trouble. Her eyes scanned the graveyard. Had Johns run into Riddick? Had Riddick killed Johns? Or had something else happened? The shots came from camp, but Johns and the others hadn't returned to camp yet. So who had fired the shots?

The air was silent following the shots, sending an eerie, unsettling feeling through Brisais. Her life on the run had granted her plenty of skills to ensure her survival. Like knowing when there was something wrong. And they were telling her there was something wrong. She had felt it the moment they crashed. It nagged away in the back of her mind, but Brisais had yet to find the cause of it. Neither Riddick nor Johns seemed to be the cause of it, which begged the question; what could be worse than them? What's more, did she really want to know?

An electrical surged suddenly coursed through the collar, sending the current flowing through every nerve of her body. Brisais cried out as her body seized. The seizure sent her body toppling from her hidden sanctuary, down into the ground below. The impact sent an array of pain coursing through her body as the current ceased. Brisais landed on her right side. The impact dislocated her right shoulder from its joint, sending a fury of agonizing pain through her shoulder. Her knee twisted beneath her body, her head struck the ground. Brisais lay on the ground cringing, burning in the sun as pain coursed through her entire body. Her chest heaved with exhaustion.

A boot slammed into her chest, knocking the air from her already burdened lungs. She looked up, nearly into the sun. Johns stood over her pointing the shotgun at her body. Brisais rolled onto her stomach and clawed at the earth. Johns stomped down on her head, shoving her face into the earth. Brisais cried out in pain. He grabbed her arms and pulled them behind her back. Her magnetic restraints engaged, cuffing her arms behind her back. Johns hauled her up to her feet and yanked back her hood, exposing her to the heat even further.

"Hope you enjoyed that bit of freedom, bitch." Johns hissed into her ear. "Cause that's the last time that'll ever happen."

Fury surged through Brisais. She felt her jaw shift, her teeth grew pointed, more animalistic. Brisais spun around and lunged at Johns. She snapped her jaws at him, trying to rip out his throat. Johns swung his shotgun and slammed it into her jaw, throwing Brisais back to the ground. He reached onto his waist for her collar trigger. He pressed the charge, initiating another surge. Johns watched as Brisais convulsed on the ground screaming in agony.

"Enough!" Imam called. He came up alongside Johns and pulled the lawman's hand from the control. "You will kill her."

Johns pulled his hand from Imam. "She'd do the same to all of us if she had a chance."

"She could have killed us in the canyon, yet she did not." Imam reminded.

"She didn't, because she didn't have the strength." Johns stated.

Imam raised his brows. "Nor does she retain such strength now."

Johns looked down at Brisais' incapacitated form. Her breathing was nearly inaudible. Her shoulder was still dislodged from its socket and her knee was starting to swell. Even if she regained consciousness before they returned to the shuttle, she couldn't afford to retaliate now. Still, Johns wasn't about to take that chance with this one again. He grabbed her by her coat and tossed her lightweight ass toward Imam. "Then put your life in gods hands, Imam." He turned and started his march back toward the crash site.

Imam looked down at Brisais' unconscious form. He lifted her into his arms, pulling her restraints over his neck. He was impressed by the ease it was to bare her weight, like she was nothing more than his prayer rug. Imam secured his hold around Brisais' body and started following Johns. Ali, Hassan, and Rashad walked alongside Imam. Their gazes quickly turned to the unconscious convict in his arms. In sleep, she looked at peace, calm; not at all like the monster Johns had made her out to be. And as Johns suggested, Imam had placed his life into Gods hands now. Should this sleeping Mimic wake and he should perish, it would be Gods will.

Fry walked up alongside Imam. She looked down at the convict. "You want some help? With the air as it is and you carrying her-"

Imam shook his head. "No, I will manage quiet easily." Fry didn't look too convinced. Her eyes shifted down to Brisais.

"What if she wakes up?"

"I have done nothing to harm her," Imam reminded. "Perhaps she will see fit to spare me. If not, then I shall dwell in Gods company."

Fry opened her mouth to speak. Whether to rebuke or simply to laugh at Imam's last statement, no one would ever remember. Gunshots erupted through the air, silencing Fry's voice and sending them all on alert. The shots came from camp, just as they reached the pinnacle field, where Zeke had been burying the dead. If he'd seen fit to pull the trigger, no one from the ship could reach him in time. They rushed toward the crash site, Johns pulling out ahead of them.

* * *

Riddick sprinted through the field, putting as much distance between himself and Zeke's grave. He'd left Shazza at the grave sight, watching him flee. He could have killed her right then-should have in fact. But images of Zeke's kill flooded his mind. Whatever had killed him had been fast and lethal. Riddick weaved through the pinnacles, heading back toward the canyon. Killing the woman then would simply be a waste of time that was needed to put as much distance between him and it.

Riddick raced past one of the larger pinnacles, straight into Johns waiting baton. The force knocked Riddick to the ground, onto his stomach. Johns stood towering over Riddick's fallen form. His lifted his foot and drove it into Riddick's ribs, effectively rolling them man over. Riddick reached for Johns gun on his waist, only he missed. Johns didn't. He caught hold of Riddick's goggles and ripped them off his face. The light of the blue sun instantly attacked his vision, distorting it unless his eyes were closed. But to do so would be surrendering to Johns. And there was no chance in hell Riddick was going to go down without a fight. but there was no chance now. johns cracked his baton down over Riddick's head, sending everything into a disorienting spin. Riddick lashed out, trying to protect himself. Another crack came down over his skull, sending him onto his back.

"Piece of shit!" Johns called, pressing his foot to Riddick's chest.

Shazza came into view. "What did you to Zeke?" Her voice was tight and demanding. When Riddick didn't answer her questing, she resorted to another method. She kicked Riddick in the head. "WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM!"

"Shazza stop!" Fry intercepted Shazza, pulling her from Riddick's form.

"Just kill him!" Shazza demanded. "Just somebody goddamn kill him before he-" she lashed one final time, kicking Riddick in the head and finally knocking him out. Riddick slumped to the ground unconscious. Johns exhaled deeply. He pocketed Riddick's goggles and glanced toward Fry, who was still holding back Shazza.

"Shazza what happened?" Fry demanded.

"HE KILLED ZEKE!" Shazza screamed.

* * *

tada! sorry i've been away. I hope this doesn't disappoint you guys. you're amazing! hope the format looks right guys, the site kinda screwed me when I uploaded it.


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